


The Soldier and the Sea Daughter

by WallaceAndGromitGirl



Category: Book of Life (2014)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Ballroom Dancing, Eyepatch, Falling In Love, Family, First Dates, First Kiss, Gen, Humanity, Little Mermaid Elements, Love Confessions, Magic, Music, One Shot Collection, Party, Relationship Advice, Romance, Sirens, Water Spirit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-02-27 08:50:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 19,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2686688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallaceAndGromitGirl/pseuds/WallaceAndGromitGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's lost an eye, his invincibility and his sense of where he belongs in the world. She's a newly minted member of humanity with a dark past not far behind. It would make a fine fairy tale, wouldn't it? But that would be simple. Starts at the end of "Legends Never Die" and goes forward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Human

It was easy to take being human for granted. Then Joaquin saw it forced on someone else.

He hadn't trusted Tlaloc from the moment he'd first seen him, and the things Ixa had said when describing him had turned his apprehension to outright fear. When Quetzalcoatl had decided to imprison him in his own realm, the young man had breathed a sigh of relief. _At least he can't hurt us anymore._

Then the request had come. "If Kisin has the right to judge his son, then I have the right to judge my daughter."

He was going to kill her, or worse. There was no doubt of that from the gleam in his eyes. And the plumed serpent would allow him to do it. It wasn't fair. "She didn't do anything wrong!"

She knew what was going to happen as well, judging by the look on her face when she was brought forward. Yet she held herself up and refused to apologize for what she had done, even though none dared to support her.

Would a human's word count? _Probably not._ He hadn't felt this powerless since the Day of the Dead, and he hated it.

Then Tlaloc had blown her up, or so it seemed. One moment she was fine, and the next she was convulsing in agony and shattering like glass. Joaquin had nearly shattered with her at the sight. He vaguely remembered shouting and trying to run at the water god, only to stumble and be held up by his friends. _Make him bring her back!_ he wanted to yell. _He can do that, can't he?_ She couldn't be dead. She wasn't supposed to be dead…

And then the clay had moved.

His brain had shut down, unable to comprehend what he was seeing even when the transformation was done. Unable to believe that the helpless, frightened young woman now stumbling around on new legs was the same sharp-tongued girl who had saved his life. He held his breath as his feet unconsciously carried him towards her. "Ixa…?"

Ixa's eyes hovered between staring up at him and down at herself, as though realizing how similar they now were. Her expression softened. When she nodded, it was with quiet resignation. "Help…"

It felt wrong for her to hold herself up with him, the reason she'd landed in this mess. "I'm sorry."

"No. You mustn't be." Her voice was soft, and her light blue eyes shined as they stared into his.

Something swelled up in his chest, a feeling he couldn't quite place. Relief that she wasn't angry with him? _Yeah, let's go with that._ Whatever it was, it made Tlaloc's threats sound like the emptiest words in the world.

A few minutes later, when they found themselves alone on the bridge after Manolo and Maria ran off with their good news, he was strangely calm about it. Calmer than he should have been, at least. "Do you want to try walking?" he asked Ixa, gently setting her on her feet.

She wobbled and fell back against him, shivering. "Not yet. Is it…is it natural to feel this cold?"

 _I should get her inside somewhere._ "We can fix that," he said, scooping her up in his arms.

Smiling weakly, she rested her head against his chest and let her eyes close.

He studied her face as he walked down the bridge with her. The face was still hers: its shape, its eyes, its nose, the way her small mouth curved up. Her hair fell around her shoulders in a soft curtain. Her breathing was steady, and the tears that had been dripping down her cheeks were gone.

 _Maybe her dad was right,_ he thought. _Maybe part of her did want this._

But now what?


	2. Reflection

Ixa was unsure of when, exactly, she had fallen asleep. Nor was she quite sure of when she had woken up, or where.

She slowly opened her eyes to find herself tucked under sheets and blankets, while something soft was tucked under her head. To her right, golden beams of sunlight streamed through the panes of a closed window. Late afternoon, they seemed to be.

That was one question answered. Now for the other. Ixa pushed off the sheets and sat up, grimacing as she pushed with her arms. She was in a canopied bed in a small, sparsely furnished room. Light green stripes papered the walls, and the floor was polished wood. Red curtains partially covered the window, and across from the window was a simple wooden door. The only furniture besides the bed was a square side table sitting on the left side of it. On it was a small looking glass, neatly placed as though someone had left it there just for her.

With trembling hands, she picked it up and looked.

She sighed in relief at the pieces of her face that she recognized, and she stared in wonder at the pieces she did not. Her skin - _that is what they call it, do they not?_ \- was a light brown, like mud from the bottom of a lake when set out to dry. Her eyes were large and blue, just the shade she herself had been, and she traced their shape with a finger. The appendage did not pass through her skin, or even leave a mark. _How strange._

Her nose curved down as it left her face, then back up to end in a point. She pushed up on it, smiling at how silly it looked. Her mouth was small, and her lips were a pale not-quite-pink. Her hair was now a very dark red, almost brown, and it tumbled down to her shoulders to end in a sea of small curls. She ran her fingers through it, wanting to feel every strand. It was smooth and soft, as well as warm to the touch. Nothing like the water.

_I wonder if I am pretty,_ she thought to herself. _Father would not want me to be pretty._ But perhaps he had been merciful, or in too much of a hurry. _I think I am pretty._ Her face was easier to look at than the rest of her, anyhow.

Her legs felt like two long stones trying to pull her down. When she tried willing them to lift, they wouldn't budge. She pushed away the sheets until she could see them, still mostly covered by her dress. Not that that made things any more pleasant.

Reaching down, she ran a hand along the length of them both. They were smooth, like the rest of her skin. They long and thin, but thicker towards the bottom, and she wondered if that was natural. Both of them ended in a large stubby bulb tipped with five small ones. _Feet, I think._ When she tried to move them, they only rocked back and forth or side to side, and only slightly.

The longer Ixa looked at them, the more she scowled. _Useless, ugly things._ How in the world were they supposed to work? Perhaps they didn't. Perhaps Tlaloc's punishment was worse than she had realized.

"No," she told herself. If he was going to force her to be human, he would force her to move like one. If she ever managed it.

She scowled further, but not at her legs. "My struggle shall not be your amusement, Father," she said. "I shall learn. To use them, and to be happy with them. You shall see."

A pair of quiet footsteps approached the door, and a moment later, it swung open. "I thought I heard you up," Maria said, smiling politely.

Ixa scrambled backwards in surprise and nearly fell off the bed. "Where are we?"

"My house," she answered. "If anyone asks, you're a cousin of Manolo's come from the city to stay awhile."

"Why would I say that?"

"Because there's no telling what might happen if we told them the truth. Some of them...aren't really okay with what's been going on the past few weeks," she added, her countenance briefly darkening.

Ixa didn't quite understand, but she nodded anyway. "When can I start learning about these?" she asked, gesturing to her legs.

"Is that what you want?"

She nodded.

"Then I guess we could start right now."


	3. First Steps

The long, strange black coverings felt warm and tight around Ixa's feet, too tight to wiggle her toes in. Maria had called them shoes, whatever that meant. You had to wear them most of the time, so it was best to get used to them early. Eventually you'd stop feeling them.

 _I'll be the judge of that,_ the new human thought.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and pressed her feet firmly onto the floorboards. Taking a breath, she quickly pushed herself out of her seat and let her legs take the weight. She soared up and then, with a yelp, back down again.

"Woah!" Maria caught her underneath her shoulders as she fell. "Not so fast next time. Try holding on to something."

She pushed Ixa back to her feet and navigated her to the nearest bedpost. The young woman grabbed it with both hands, her fingers digging into the wood. Her knees and legs trembled, threatening to give way once more.

"Calm down," said Maria as she slowly stepped away. "Breathe. Try spreading your weight around."

"Try what?"

"You're standing with your legs too close together. They won't hold you up that way."

With slow, clumsy shuffles, Ixa widened her stance until her legs were splayed out beneath her. The trembling lessened as she slowly breathed in and out, closing her eyes and tightening her grip on the bedpost. "Is it working?"

"Let's find out." Taking her fingers one by one, Maria pried them off the bedpost. "Don't move just yet, okay? Now open your eyes."

Ixa did so and stared down. Her knees had stopped shaking, and her legs felt thick and sturdy beneath her.

"Oh," she said before breaking into a grin. _"Oh!_ Why didn't you say it would be this easy?"

"It's not a bad start," Maria said, looking her over and making a mental note to correct her stance later. "Do you want to walk?"

Ixa's grin widened as she bobbed her head up and down. "Might we? Is it hard?"

"Not really. You just have to put one foot out and...no, not like that!"

Ixa had already swung her foot as though kicking, lost her balance and went toppling over again with a shriek.

Maria took her hands and helped her back up, not letting go of her once she was standing. "Small steps," she said. "Put one foot out."

Nodding, Ixa lifted her right foot off the ground and let it fall back down a few inches forward. "Like this...?"

"Yeah, that'll do. Now put the other one in front."

Ixa swung her left foot out and plopped it down a few inches in front of the right one, nearly falling forward as she did so. She snapped back up, unconsciously sticking her arms out to her sides. "Are...are they supposed to be doing that?"

"Don't worry. That's to keep you up." Maria took her by the hands again. "I got an idea. Try following me."

She took a step backwards. Ixa took another step with her right foot, one not as stilted and lumbering as the ones before. The two women went around the room in circles, slowly at first and then beginning to pick up speed. Awkward steps became rhythmic, forming a pattern. Right, left, right, left.

They stopped, and Maria let go of Ixa's hands and backed away. "Now by yourself."

Right, left, right, left.

Ixa laughed as she continued to stroll around the room, swinging her arms back and forth. "This is such fun! Do you really get to do this all the time? You are such lucky creatures!"

Maria smiled. "I'll leave you to it."

She thought back to the extra pair of heels stowed in her closet. _Maybe we should..._

_...Oh, it can wait._


	4. The Grand Tour

Saturdays were the best - that was when San Angel truly came alive. The sun had only just finished emerging from behind the horizon, and already the streets were swarming with people. Friends chatted and made plans for the day, birds sang, the nuns led the orphans through the square on a walk and Ignacio was selling churros by the fountain again. Thankfully not the frosted ones. Joaquin's memory of _that_ was still all too vivid.

"Are you guys sure today's a good day for this?" he asked Manolo, leaning back in the parlor chair and casting a glance up the stairs. Ixa and Maria were on the second floor, still getting ready.

His friend looked up at him, a little surprised. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Don't you think it might freak her out a little? All the people and noise and stuff?" He hadn't seen her since dropping her off at the house, despite all the times he'd visited since then. Perhaps she was hiding.

"That's what she said she wanted to see."He offered Joaquin a smile. "You worry too much, _amigo._ She's going to be fine."

"Joaquin!" a voice from the top of the stairs chirped. "Joaquin, look!"

The boys looked up. Ixa stood on the landing of the stairs, hanging over the railing and waving down at them.

"Watch this," she said. She took the last flight of stairs one foot at a time, hopping from step to step until she landed on the ground floor. Maria followed her, smiling and shaking her head.

Joaquin smiled at the sight. "That's great, Ixa!" he said as he stood up and approached her."I mean, that's really great."

She was wearing a flowing, dark orange dressthat looked warm and bright against her skin and curls. Part of her hair was pinned behind one ear, and a rose blossom was attached to the looked back up the stairs as she put her hands on her hips, smirking at her own feat. "I have been practicing."

"And she's got the bruises to prove it," Maria added as she reached the bottom of the stairs. "So, are we all ready?"

"Absolutely," Manolo said. Ixa nodded vigorously, and Joaquin slightly less so.

Maria walked to the front door. "Then in that case," she said as she swung it open, "welcome to San Angel."

Ixa's eyes grew wide as she stepped outside and wandered into the street. Craning her neck back, she turned around to stare up at the buildings. She smiled hesitantly at the people who passed by, and it grew more confident when they smiled back.

"It's so _pretty,"_ she said when she looked back at her friends. "And they all seem so happy!"

Manolo nudged Joaquin's shoulder. "Told you."

"What is that?" Ixa asked, pointing at something in the distance.

"I think that's - woah!" Before Joaquin could answer, Ixa had grabbed him by the hand and was pulling him down the street.

* * *

Ixa cocked her head and furrowed her brows, observing the anomaly. "This," she finally said, "is a very strange pond."

"It's called a fountain," Manolo said. "We made it."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Because it looks nice, I guess."

Cupping her hands, she scooped up some water and held it. "It seems like such a waste."

She paused as she looked around, and her eye soon fell on four soldiers gawking at her from behind a nearby cart. With a smirk, she flung the water and struck them right in the face. They shrieked and ran off, while she nearly fell backwards into the fountain from laughing. She abruptly stopped as she noticed several people stop in their tracks and give her odd looks. "That was wrong, wasn't it?"

Maria was still snickering. "In my book? Not really."

* * *

"So you just bite down on it? Does it hurt?"

"No, no, it's good," Maria said. "Just try it."

Holding the churro with both hands, Ixa cautiously brought it up to her mouth and bit off the end of it. She chewed slowly, her face pensive as she mulled over the texture and taste. Finally she smiled.

"I like it!" she said, moments before stuffing the rest of it into her mouth at once.

* * *

"Come on, he's not gonna hurt you."

Ixa peered out from behind Joaquin, trembling. "What is he?"

"You've never seen a horse?"

She shook her head.

"Well, then this guy's the best one to start with." Taking her hand, Joaquin guided it towards the creature's neck. "Ixa, Plata. Plata, Ixa. Be nice to her, boy!"

The white horse turned his head towards the newcomer, examining her with large brown eyes while she ran a hand across his neck.

Ixa met his gaze. "Hello…"

Plata sniffed her, then nudged her shoulder with his nose. She paused in surprise before laughing.

"He likes you," Joaquin said.

She reached up to scratch him behind the ears. "It is returned, then."

* * *

Ixa whirled around, glaring. "I thought I sent you ugly creatures away!"

The four soldiers shrank back for a few seconds but soon resumed following her and her friends down the street, eyes curious and mouths grinning.

Joaquin turned on them next. "Leave her alone, guys. She's not interested."

They pretended to wander away, mumbling something about how he got all the fun.

"They're too dull to understand words, I think." Folding her arms, Ixa looked around. "We need something more drastic."

Maria spotted a pen full of chickens nearby and smirked. "I got an idea."

A minute later, the crowd in the square turned as the soldiers ran screaming down the street, a small army of screeching fowl at their heels. Dust, feathers and screams filled the air as the chickens filled the square, jumping in the fountain and at fleeing people's heads.

General Posada, who was just walking out of the cantina, shrieked as he got a rooster right in the face. _"_ _Malditos niños…!"_

* * *

The setting sun found the quartet laughing as they climbed the hill towards the church, the sounds of their handiwork echoing behind them.

"We…are in _so_ much trouble," Joaquin said through gasps for breath. "Your dad…your dad is gonna…"

"What's he going to do to me?" Maria said. "That's for my _husband_ to decide nowadays. Isn't it, Manolo?"

"Whatever you say."

Ixa looked around as they passed through the church gate and began weaving their way through the graves. "What is this place?"

"The graveyard," Joaquin answered. "It's where we put people when they die."

"What kind of people?"

"The ones we want to remember."

The group approached a particularly large grave, its headstone carved like a winged heart. A plaque was nailed onto its front: **CARLOS Y CARMEN SANCHEZ.**

Manolo knelt before it. _"Hola,_ Papa," he said. "Mama." He smiled weakly as Maria knelt as well, wrapping an arm around him and resting her head on his shoulder.

Ixa tried to curtsey to the headstone. "Hello," she said. "Your son is a very good man, you know. You would be pleased with him." She turned to Joaquin. "Do you have anyone here?"

"Just one."

Captain Mondragon's statue stood atop the pedestal that was the man's crypt, casting a wide shadow over the rest of the graveyard. Ixa and Joaquin stood in it, looking up at the stern face.

"Did you know him?" she asked.

"I wasn't really old enough to remember him when it happened," he confessed. "But I know what he was like! He was awesome! I mean, he'd have to be. Look at that mustache."

"He was a hero, they say. Like you."

Joaquin paused. "I…I'd like to think so." He couldn't help feeling very small again as he looked up at the statue. "I just hope he'd be proud of me."

Ixa took his hand. "He should be."

They stayed in front of the tomb together, watching as day turned to night.


	5. Ball

It had seemed like such a small request.

"Please don't tell a lot of people just yet," Manolo and Maria had asked the general upon sharing their news with him. Her mother, a few friends of the family, that was alright. But no more than that, at least not this early in the pregnancy. "We'd just like to keep it secret for a few more months."

The old man had smiled and nodded, and they were happy enough that they thought they could trust him for once. Thus, they were more surprised than they should have been when word quickly reached them of how all of San Angel was invited to celebrate the coming birth of General Posada's first grandchild, and how its parents were to be the guests of honor. Wasn't it lovely?

"Oh, and he says to bring along that cousin of yours," a nun added. "She seems like the kind who would enjoy a party."

* * *

"I would rather not."

Ixa shifted on her feet, wincing at how the black heeled shoes squeezed her toes together. She cast another glance at the floorboards, as though worried that they would disappear. Beneath them, a dull roar of music and voices was rising up from the ballroom of Casa de Posada.

"I told you to stay still," Maria said, sounding more unkind than she had meant to. "Just a few more buttons and we'll be done…with that part…"

For whatever reason, the general had insisted on having them come to the house early and get ready for the ball there. At least it gave the women time to search through the gowns Maria had left behind for one Ixa could borrow. They eventually settled on one she had never worn, a form-fitting dress with black and white stripes running along its length and black lace around the top. The waist was narrower than they had thought it at first, forcing them to lace Ixa's corset a bit tighter than usual. Eventually they had managed to wrangle her hair into a bun and slip on the pair of heels. Ixa wasn't sure which part of it all had been the most painful.

Maria finished the last button on the gown, then clasped a short string of pearls around Ixa's neck and stepped back. "What do you think?"

The feeling she had as she looked at her reflection could not be put into words. All she could do was twist her face into a pained grimace.

Maria nodded solemnly. "Yes, I can tell."

There was a light knocking on the bedroom door. "Come in," Maria said.

Manolo pushed the door open, looking just as uncomfortable as them in a grey suit the general had probably picked out for him. "He's expecting us."

His wife rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath as she halfheartedly adjusted her red gown.

"Mood swings already?" he asked with a smile.

"Don't start."

_"Lo siento."_ He offered her his arm. "You both look lovely."

Maria wrapped her arm around his, and they walked out the door together. Ixa trailed behind, taking small steps that still managed to make her feet ache.

* * *

The party guests erupted into cheers and applause as the two Sanchezes appeared at the top of the ballroom stairs. They descended the steps and were swept up by the crowd as soon as they reached the floor. How far along was Maria? Did they want a boy or a girl? Had they thought of any names yet? And perhaps Señor Sanchez would consider restarting the old family tradition?

No one noticed Ixa come creeping into the ballroom and stumble down the stairs. She nearly tripped on the last one, grabbed the banister for support and took a deep breath, straining against the corset. _If I ever meet the person who invented these, it shall please me to remove his head._

Perhaps she was best off going unnoticed. Pulling herself back to her feet, she was about to inch towards the wall when she noticed a group of men and women standing in front of her, staring. Their eyes were wide and curious, and she froze under their gaze. _What did Maria say to do again?_

"Um…hello!" She attempted a curtsey that wobbled and dropped into a clumsy bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you! I think. Is it?"

The partygoers looked at her askance and moved away, whispering amongst themselves. "It's no wonder they didn't want her in the city. She must be rather distant if she really is a cousin. She hardly even _looks_ like a Sanchez…"

_That's enough of this._ Ixa began to climb back up the stairs, aching to slip off her heels and wait in the bedroom until this silly gathering was over, however long that took.

She barely made it up one step before she lost her balance. For a moment, she was falling backwards with a frightened yelp. Then two large hands caught her by the shoulders, suspending her diagonally.

"Are you okay?" Joaquin was staring down at her, concern on his face.

"No."

He lifted her back on to her feet. "You need some help?"

"Yes. I was leaving."

His smile drooped slightly. "Oh…"

"You enjoy this?"

"Well, it'd be a shame. I mean, you look…" He cleared his throat. "You look nice."

"So they tell me." Reaching up, she pulled the bun apart and shook her hair loose. "But it does not matter if I do not agree."

He slowly nodded. "I think I get it."

"You do?"

"It gets weird hearing how cool an eyepatch looks when you're the one who has to wear it." He sighed. "Could be worse, though. I could be up there."

Ixa followed his gaze to the center of the room, where Manolo and Maria were twirling around the dance floor. The presence of one seemed to be calming on the other. Their smiles were broad, and one might have thought there was no one else in the room from the way their eyes were locked.

"Do you still love her?"

Joaquin started at the sudden question. "What?"

"Maria. You loved her once."

"Well, yeah. She's my friend."

"I mean in the way she and Manolo love one another."

"…Yeah. Once."

"What happened?"

"I don't really know. It just sort of…stopped being like that." He couldn't express how it had felt to see her so broken in the few hours of their engagement. To feel wrong and invasive when he had imagined their life together, himself in the place where Manolo should have been.

"I do like her," he added. "Just not like _that."_

Ixa looked away, hiding the small smile which crept onto her face at his words.

He cleared his throat again, eager to break the silence. "So, uh, you still want help getting up the stairs?"

"Will you be staying down here?"

"Probably, yeah."

"…Then I'll stay awhile."

Joaquin looked surprised, and then pleasantly so. "You will? I mean, fine. That's fine. You want a chair? I can give you a few pointers about who's who."

"You don't have to stay with me."

He smiled at her, his first genuine one of the evening. "Are you kidding? This is already the best party I've been to here."


	6. Fish

It didn't take long for whispers to begin flying around the ballroom. All the women he could have wrapped around his finger with a single look, and the hero of San Angel was giving all his attention to the strange Sanchez girl? What made her think she deserved it? And more importantly, what made him think she did?

Ixa and Joaquin never seemed to notice. They were sitting next to each other in a corner of the room, their words forming a shield from the gossip surrounding them. The young man was leaning back in his chair, a casual smile on his face as he pointed out certain guests, the portrait of his father, a scuff on one column from his days of effortlessly tossing around the lower ranked soldiers. Ixa sat with her legs folded beneath her and her chin resting on one hand, eyes sparkling with amusement as she took in his stories.

It was all going so well until one of the general's servants opened the doors to announce that dinner was ready.

It wasn't the utensils: Ixa was reasonably well-versed in those by this point. She no longer grabbed food with her hands, gnawed at it, gripped her fork like a dagger and stabbed at her plate like its contents needed killing. She still slurped her soup, but quietly enough that only the people on either side of her heard. She even knew not to rub her napkin across her face.

No, the moment it went sour was when General Posada called for the main course, and out came several steaming platters of kelp bass.

Joaquin stared down at his plate, not sure if he should touch the food or not. Maria was slowly cutting up the fish into small chunks in an attempt to look busy. Manolo focused on what remained of his salad, trying to stall as long as he could. Their eyes all darted towards Ixa, who sat between them and was staring at the food with bugged-out eyes and a slightly gaping mouth.

Inch by inch, she leaned towards Maria. "This food," she whispered. "It is…made of fish?"

The other woman paused, then nodded. "That's one way to say it."

"Is it normal to eat fish in this realm?"

"Pretty normal…"

Ixa grimaced and looked around the table. Everyone else was already digging into the creatures' flesh, blissfully unaware of what they were putting in their mouths. Her gaze went back down to her plate, then she picked up her fork and knife. _If I must, I must. But only this once._

Her friends froze as she cut off a piece of the fish. She brought it up to her lips, and her hand trembled as she slipped it in. She chewed it one slow bite at a time, as though reluctant to swallow. When she finally did, it was with a gulp and a slight shudder.

"…Well?" Manolo dared to ask.

Ixa took a deep breath, then plastered a forced smile across her face. "It is good."

* * *

Hours later, as the moon hung over San Angel and the townsfolk were fast asleep, the silence of the night was broken by Ixa's coughing and hacking as she staggered down the street. _"How do you get it out?"_

"You probably shouldn't do that here," Joaquin said as he and Manolo tried to help her along.

"Of all the horrid practices…!"

"We didn't know he was going to do that," Manolo said. "We're sorry."

"You have _no idea_ what that was like."

"I wouldn't be too crazy about eating my pets, either," said Joaquin.

Ixa stopped and looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"The fish. They're like your pets, aren't they?"

She stared at him in confusion and disbelief, opened her mouth to call him an idiot and then stopped. "You do not know…"

"Don't know what?"

"That fish are vile creatures," she answered, resuming her walk. "Lower than even I was. Their only task is to clean the filth from the waters by eating it. When you eat them, you are eating the filth! Why, there is no telling what was in the bellies of the ones we ate. Dirt, rot, seaweed…"

The boys began to blanch. "I think we get it, Ixa…"

"…the little corpses of things that drowned, and _certainly_ their own - "

"Okay!" Joaquin said, almost shouting. "I-I get the idea! Bad fish! Very bad!"

Maria had been trailing a few steps behind the rest of the group. Now she caught up to them, looking tired and frazzled. "Well, that was interesting."

Manolo wrapped an arm around her, and she immediately melted into his embrace. "What do you say we have our own little _fiesta?_ The way we want, just the four of us."

She reached down and pulled off her heels, carrying them in one hand. "I'd like that."

"You want us there?" Joaquin asked with a raised eyebrow. "I thought this was more of a family thing."

"Exactly."

The rest of the night was spent in the Sanchez parlor before a blazing fire, trading hopes and making plans as Manolo plucked out tunes. They finally fell asleep with the first rays of dawn, Manolo and Maria snuggled on the sofa while Joaquin snored on the floor and Ixa unknowingly rested her head against him.

There was no more talk of fish.


	7. Homesick

_Why?_ was the question she kept asking herself. Why this emotion rather than the relief she ought to be feeling? It made no sense. She should not even think of her father's realm, much less think of it with this peculiar urge. This…this _longing._

What was there to long for? Tlaloc? Her sisters? Certainly not. There was nothing to long for about a realm where no thought to even glance at you. And where there were no harsh looks or words from those who noticed your mistakes. Where there was no one to care for you. And yet, no one to disappoint. Where you didn't belong, and yet where you always knew your place. And, and…

With a groan, she flopped backwards onto her bed and stared at the canopy, searching for an answer within the threads of fabric.

Maria was the first to notice what was happening, undoubtedly because it had happened to her. "You okay?" she asked Ixa one afternoon, watching as the young woman stared daggers at a pot of water sitting on the cold stove.

"Why would I not be?"

"You've been kind of quiet lately. And you've been standing there for the past five minutes."

"It takes time to make water boil, doesn't it?"

"That's what the stove is for, you know."

Ixa blinked a few times, then twitched. Reaching out, she switched on the stove before shuffling away. "My apologies…"

Maria said nothing, nor did she forget.

* * *

"Why don't you tell us more about yourself?"

Ixa started, the other woman's voice pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Stuff about your home, maybe," Maria continued. "I'm just curious. Aren't you, boys?"

Manolo and Joaquin both nodded, as she had told them to.

The parlor was quiet for a few seconds as Ixa fidgeted in her seat. "There is not much to speak of. Not what you would want to hear, at least."

"There has to be something worth talking about," Joaquin said, then flinched at his own words. "I mean, there doesn't _have_ to be, I was just thinking…"

"The caves," Ixa said, her voice just above a whisper. "I think I loved those caves more than anything. You remember them, do you not?"

The others gave her funny looks but nodded nonetheless.

"My sisters did not think highly of them, either," she continued with a knowing smile. "That is why I hid from them in there. They were forever getting lost when they followed me in. Rushing about in circles and never knowing it." She chuckled at the thought, and so did her friends.

Then her smile began to fade. "I suppose the plants will die now that I have gone. There were statues I'd found as well, and pictures on the walls. No one shall look upon them fondly again."

She said no more after that, and excused herself not long after.

"That went well," Manolo remarked once she was gone.

"I thought talking about it might help…!"

Joaquin was silent, looking up at the staircase while drumming his fingers together. "I got an idea," he said, bringing his friends' attention back towards him. "But it would take a few days to get the stuff together. And I'd need you guys on board with it."

"With what?"

* * *

"Are you sure, Maria?"

"Of course!"

"I don't know how much help I would be to any of you…"

"Oh, don't be silly," Maria answered, trying to guide Ixa towards the front door. "The orphans were asking about you the other day, you know. You'll love them! It's just for a day. Please?"

"Fine. But just this once." She yelped as Maria pulled her outside and down the street.

Manolo lingered at a window, watching them leave. "Have fun!" Once they were gone, he paused before glancing down the street to the house next door. "Are you ready?"

The window next door swung open, and Joaquin stuck out his head. "Ready!"

* * *

"Manolo?" Maria called out as she walked back through the door that evening, Ixa trudging after her. "Are you home?"

"Back here," he answered from the dining room.

Following his voice, the girls found him and Joaquin slumped over at the table. "And what have _you_ been up to?" Maria asked when she saw them, smiling a bit.

"Nothing," they answered in unison as Joaquin tried to wipe a smudge of something gray off his face. "What about you?"

"Oh…they had some extra steam to burn off today. But they liked you, didn't they?"

Ixa looked as though she had been wrenched out of shape and back into it just as carelessly. "I shall be upstairs if I am needed," she muttered before turning to go.

The three amigos listened to her heavy footsteps on the creaking stairs. "Did you finish it?" Maria whispered.

"Just a few minutes ago," Manolo answered. "Any second now…"

They heard a door open, and then a shriek of surprise that echoed through the house.

He grinned. _"There_ it is."

Ascending the stairs, they all approached Ixa's room, the door of which stood open. "Do you like it?" Maria asked, looking through the doorway.

Ixa was standing in the middle of the room, slowly turning around while gaping at her new surroundings. "This…this is…what _is_ this?"

The walls had been painted with blurred swirls of grays, blacks and browns that looked almost like stone. Soft, dark blue rugs covered the floor, overlapping with each other. The old curtains and canopy had been taken down and replaced with flowing blue-green ones. All around the room, in every corner and on top of furniture, sat statues of various shapes and sizes and pots overflowing with colorful plants.

"You said you missed the caves," Manolo said. "So we thought we'd try bringing them to you."

She seemed to be in a daze at the sight. "Thank you…"

"Thank Joaquin," he answered. "It was his idea."

Joaquin smiled nervously and started to back away. "I-It's probably not as good as I was hoping, but…"

He stumbled backwards as Ixa sprang back to life and rushed at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest.

"It's wonderful," she said.

He tried not to blush at the sudden contact. "Um…thanks."

She began to understand after that. There were still new rules to learn, a new form to adjust to. There were challenges unheard of in her old realm, and rewards unheard of as well. People who wanted to help. People who cared.

_Perhaps this is what a home is._


	8. First Date

Maria had only seen Joaquin this wide-eyed and stiff one other time, when he'd been down on one knee in front of her all those months ago. The connotations of it all brought a small smile to her face as she and Manolo watched their friend pace back and forth across the parlor.

"Are you sure you want us to be here?" Manolo asked. "You don't want to put pressure on her."

Joaquin sucked in another breath through his teeth, as though considering this possibility for the first time. "Well, I-I…I'd like someone to be here. In case I mess up."

"Alright. But we're not coming with you if she says yes."

They heard Chuy squealing from upstairs, accompanied by the slap of running feet on wood. "Come back here at once! That's an _order!"_

The pig came hurrying down the stairs, one of Maria's shoes between his teeth. Ixa came stumbling after him, landing in a heap at the bottom of the steps. Chuy gave a victorious snort and gnawed on the shoe, while she glared at him as she got to her feet. "Put that down! And spit up the other one!"

"Bleh."

"He did _what?"_ Maria said, feigning angry shock. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it. Come on, Manolo."

"What do you need me for?" Manolo asked as she grabbed his hand and started to drag him upstairs.

"Because."

Joaquin turned pale. "Hey, where are you…?"

But they were already gone, and he was alone with her.

Ixa gave him a cursory glance and nod, seeing nothing unusual in his presence. "He knows it is wrong," she said, glaring at Chuy as he slunk away to follow his owners. "I cannot fathom what he sees in doing so. I tried one of them once. It was terrible."

"Y-Yeah…"

She noticed his hesitant, uneven tone and turned to look at him, which unnerved him further. "Something is wrong."

"Wrong? Oh, no, nothing's wrong! I mean, I hope so. Besides the shoe thing." _Okay, now you're just stalling._ "I…have something I'd like to ask you about."

She gave him a curious look, waiting for him to continue.

He cleared his throat. "If you aren't too busy this evening…"

"I will not be. What of it?"

"I was thinking maybe you and I could, y'know, just go somewhere…"

"Is that all?"

Joaquin blinked rapidly. "What?"

"I thought it was a matter of greater importance."

"Um…I guess that's a no?"

"Of course I will. You need have only said you wished it. You are so strange sometimes!"

He hardly noticed the last remark. "Great! I-I mean, that's nice. Eight o'clock? Will that be okay?"

She nodded, then turned and walked from the room. As soon as she was gone, the tension inside Joaquin seemed to melt like ice in a furnace. _"Yes!"_ he shouted, bouncing up and down.

Manolo and Maria crept back onto the landing. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

* * *

The moon was rising when Joaquin reappeared at Casa de Sanchez, having returned to his fidgeting. Ixa had her head hanging out of the bedroom window, eyes scanning the street for him. When she saw him approaching, she waved and went downstairs to meet him at the door.

"You look nice," he said.

She stared at him blankly. "I have not done anything."

"You wouldn't mind if I borrow him for a minute, would you?" Maria said, coming up behind her. She pulled Joaquin aside, and they began to speak in hushed tones. Ixa could not hear their words, but judging from how Joaquin looked rather sheepish and kept shaking his head, she suspected that it was a rather important matter in Maria's mind. Eventually she let him go, and away they went.

To a watching eye, it must have seemed like nothing special: they simply meandered through the streets of San Angel, talking of one mundane subject and then another. His eyepatch, what she was learning, how their days had been. Yet it was calming and exciting at the same time, the two of them alone together. This wasn't like the grotto, when the threat of his wounds loomed above them like a shadow. Here they could simply _be._ At least, they could if Joaquin would stop acting so strangely.

He wasn't talking as much as he normally did, and when he did speak, it was hesitant and quick. He did not stay on one subject too long, especially if it concerned himself, and he stole a glance at her after each sentence. When she began to chatter, he became so wrapped up in watching her that he walked into one lamp post and had to be pulled away from another.

"You are never like this," she told him. "Never!"

"I was thinking. About…what I want to show you today."

She raised her eyebrows. "You wish to show me something?"

"Just a thing I thought you'd like."

They walked to the outlying streets, towards the docks and the lake. Floating at the last dock was a simple little rowboat, bobbing up and down with the gentle pulse of the water.

_"_ _Señoritas_ first," Joaquin said, gesturing to it.

It was bizarre and frightening at first, having the ground suddenly dip and sway under your feet. She quickly sat down, gripping the sides of the boat, and he balanced it by sitting down at the other end. The slow, strong strokes of the oars carried them away from the dock, out onto the water. Soon they were nearly to the other shore, and San Angel was sitting before them like a picture, framed by the moon and glowing with soft light.

Ixa gasped at the sight. "It's wonderful!"

"You really think so…?"

"Of course I do." She brushed a hand along the surface of the lake, watching the water ripple. "You need not be so concerned."

"Maybe. It's just…this is kind of new. Us by ourselves."

"We were by ourselves at the ball."

"I mean _really_ by ourselves. Like, out here."

"Oh." She shrugged. "What difference does that make?"

He opened and closed his mouth, as though trying to find an answer, then sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"It _is_ nice, though."

He smiled. "Thanks."

It would have been different in the days of the medal. There would have been no need to try this hard, at least in his mind. _But you can't really assume anything with her, can you?  
_

"What is it now?"

"I was just thinking how nice it is to have you around."

Ixa felt color rushing to her cheeks. "No one has said that."

"They should."

She grinned and stood up. "You know what I think?" she said, stepping over to his side of the boat to sit near him. "I think that - "

"Ixa, that's not such a good - "

They both yelped as the boat tipped down and then flipped over, spilling them out into the lake.

* * *

The walk back to the Sanchez house was silent, the two of them drenched and shivering. Joaquin didn't even look at her. "I'm sorry," he mumbled as they approached the door.

"What for?"

"Messing up."

"You did nothing of the sort." She wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a tight squeeze before backing towards the door. "I shall not disrupt the boat next time."

"Next time? You want to do this again?"

She nodded. "Whenever you wish."

"Okay…okay, yeah!" he said. "I-I should probably go dry off. You too."

"Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight."

She opened the door and stepped inside, vanishing from his view. From within, Joaquin could hear the twin cries of "What happened to _you?"_

"Oh, a lovely thing…"

He walked away with a spring in his step. _That's a good way to sum it up._


	9. Temptation

"Middle sister…middle sister? Where _are_ you…?"

Ixa's eyes snapped open at the sound of the voices. Her head whipped left and right as she tried to look around, but all she could see was a pale blue mist that covered the world and was enveloping her with it. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself and pushed forward. The ground was soft and damp beneath her slippered feet. In the distance, she could hear the gentle bubbling of a spring.

_I know this place,_ she thought. _This is Father's realm._

"Middle sister!" The voices of the spirits were all around her now, flickering and echoing in her ears. The sound of the spring mixed with the sound of their weeping and wailing.

"What do you want?" Ixa shouted, planting herself in one spot.

"Come back to us, middle sister. Please."

"What, so you may torment me once more? I shall not."

"We miss you, middle sister," the eldest of them said. "We were wrong to hurt you so."

"Leave me in peace!"

"We only wish to bring you peace, middle sister. Come home with us, please. We shall protect you from Father and find a way to restore you to your true form. All will be as it should. We _promise."_

"I don't believe you."

They were crying again now, and their voices were coming to rest at a spot just ahead of her. The mist rose and moved aside, and there they were. All twelve of them, prostrated on the banks and jutting rocks of the small pond where they used to play. When they saw her, they smiled through their tears and reached out their hands. "Join us," they whispered in unison.

Ixa backed away. "You don't need me," she snapped. "You never needed me, and I do not need you! I have…" She trailed off as she looked around, wondering where her friends had gone.

"You are not like them, middle sister," said the eldest. "You will never be like them, for you can never be truly human. They will never care for you as they care for one another. As _we_ care for you."

"Join us," all the spirits whispered. "Make us whole once more."

Ixa froze in place, biting her lip as she stared at them. It would be a lie to say she had never dreamed of such a moment as this, in her new life as well as her old one.

"This is what you have always wanted," they said.

"N-No," she answered, even as her feet carried her forward.

The spirits convened at the shore of the pond as she approached, stretching out their arms and revealing their sharp teeth as they smiled. _"Yesss…"_

Without thinking, Ixa put forth a hand. Her sisters reached forward as one, their fingers cold as ice as they touched her skin -

_"Ixa!"_

Her eyes flew open again, and she screamed. She was in the middle of the cold night, at the end of a dock, one foot over the edge and a whirlpool of bubbling, glowing water below her. She tried to jump back and instead found herself falling forward. The water hissed with glee as spindly, clawed hands reached up to pull her down.

Then a pair of large, thick hands grabbed her by the waist, stopping her fall. They pulled her back up, into arms that wrapped around her and pulled her against a broad chest.

"Are you okay?" Joaquin said. "What are you _doing_ out here this late?"

"I…I don't know…"

_Jump!_

Ixa cried out and sank to her knees. Her hands flew to the sides of her head, desperately trying to stop the pulsing sensation within her brain. "Go away!"

_Jump,_ her sisters repeated. What else are you good for, wretch?

Joaquin stared at her in horror as she convulsed. "Ixa, what's going on?"

"My head…they're in my head…"

"Who is?" He looked up just in time to see another arm stretch out of the water, and his face twisted with rage. "Get away from her!" he shouted, drawing one of his swords and taking a swing at the translucent limb. He caught it at the wrist, slicing off the hand. It dissolved and fell away, and the rest of the arm followed as the spirits shrieked. The pale glow faded from the water, and the bubbling slowed until the surface of the lake was placid once more.

_Next time,_ the spirits hissed in Ixa's mind as their presence vanished. _He will not be here to save you then._

Moaning, Ixa slumped onto her side and lay where she fell.

"Did they hurt you?" Joaquin asked as he knelt beside her. "You can tell me, they're gone now."

_You should have known, fool,_ she thought to herself. _You should have known._

Curling into a fetal position, she began to softly weep.

Joaquin tentatively stroked her hair for a moment, then scooped her into his arms and lifted her up. "Come on," he said. "Let's get you home."

* * *

He'd never been so thankful for the spare key Manolo and Maria had given him. A few minutes later, he was in the parlor, setting Ixa down on the sofa. "Do you…need anything else?" he asked.

She said nothing, only shivered.

_Where do they keep the blankets in here?_ he thought. It wouldn't do to just go looking, nor to wake them up. Undoing his cape, he slipped it off and draped it over Ixa. She sighed and pulled it around herself, burrowing deeper into the sofa.

Suddenly feeling very strange, Joaquin started to back away. "You, er…you can keep that. I should probably go - "

"Don't."

He looked up at her. "What?"

She was sitting up now, staring at him. "Don't go."

"I…" This wasn't like the two of them being out on the lake together. They'd been alone, yes, but not _alone_ alone. This…this wasn't the same, nor did it seem quite proper. "I don't know if I should - "

_"Please."_ She said it so innocently, so pleading, unaware of what she had just done to him with a single word.

"…Okay."

He built up a fire, then sat down beside Ixa and put an arm around her. She curled up against him, her breaths evening out as the tears on her face began to dry. _She's so small,_ he realized. She must have felt even smaller.

"Is this better?" he whispered. "You feel safer?"

"Soon…"


	10. Old Times

"What were they doing to you back there?"

Ixa lifted her head out of Joaquin's lap. "What?" she asked through a yawn, looking at him with furrowed brows and a small frown.

He bit his lip and looked away. "Sorry…"

"I suppose you ought to know," she answered grimly. "It will happen again."

"So what was it? When you said they were in your head, I mean."

She didn't answer for a few seconds, focusing on a few strands of hair she was twisting between her fingers. "It is a link between our minds, that we may speak with one another wherever we are. All the daughters of Tlaloc are part of it. That is how Father made us."

"You know," Joaquin continued, stepping over his words like they were hot coals, "you've never really said much about what it was like there."

"And why do you wish to know?"

He paused. "Because…"

_Because I want to help you. Because we all need to be ready if this happens again. Because you don't deserve to deal with this by yourself._

"…because you're confusing."

_Great job, buddy. Just go jump in the bull pens wearing a red dress while you're at it._

Ixa sat up, and for a moment, Joaquin thought she was going to move away from him. Instead she leaned against his chest and pulled his cape tighter around herself. "You confuse me as well," she said, smiling wearily.

"How about a deal, then? You tell me more about you, and I'll tell you more about me. How's that sound?"

"You may tell me to stop whenever you wish. I won't mind."

"I think it'd be better if I didn't."

"…Very well." Her gaze drifted to the flickering fire, and her eyes glazed over as she began to speak.

"Tlaloc made thirteen daughters from the waters of his realm, to be his guards and do his every bidding. I was the seventh, although you might think I was the last from how I appeared. Something went wrong when Father made me."

"There's nothing wrong with you!" Joaquin said before he could stop himself.

Ixa looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, you know…whatever _they_ thought was wrong with you."

"Perhaps," she said as she settled back against him. "He wanted us strong and fierce. I was small, always the smallest. My teeth were not sharp enough, and I had no claws. I had no taste for the blood which the rest of them craved. I could not even stand the sight of it. Father looked at me with such disgust that I thought he would destroy me and start again. I did not know why he let me live at first. But I soon learned."

"You said…you said your sisters practiced hunting with you."

She nodded. "Every day. We killed with our teeth and our claws. I could not fight back, and so I was the prey. We could not kill one another, but we could feel the pain. All of it."

She shuddered. He shuddered with her, wondering how she was still sane.

"We still were not vile enough for Father," she continued, growing more bitter. "He sent us all out to hunt for each meal. When we brought back our kills, he made us fight for our shares." She let out a short, sniffing laugh. "I suppose you can guess how well that went."

"What did you eat, then?"

"The plants that grew in the caves. I fled there when it was over, to wait for my wounds to heal. They would call for me, say they would kill me when they found out where I was hiding."

Joaquin's face grew pale as he pulled her closer. "I…" _What do you say to_ _ **that?**_

"And those weren't even the special days."

_"Special_ days?"

"When we were obedient, Father would bring us the flesh of men."

"Oh…"

"Sometimes a baby if he was in a good mood."

Joaquin gagged. "Oh, _God…"_

"I never did!" Ixa said quickly. "I never even looked when they did. I could not bear it. I told Father it was cruel once, asked him why he hated men so. He struck me and told me to mind my tongue."

She looked up at Joaquin, who was trembling and covering his mouth as he stared at her with wide eyes. "You do not wish to hear any more."

"…I-I'm sorry," he stammered out, his gaze dropping from hers.

"Are…are you frightened of me?"

He looked back up. "Why would I be?"

"Because of what I was."

Joaquin shook his head. "That wasn't you. That was all of them. Don't you ever tell yourself that was you, okay? Just don't."

She slowly nodded. "I should not have spoken so openly."

"It's…it's okay."

Ixa curled up closer to him. "May I hear about you, please?"

"I hope you weren't expecting me to top that."

"Tell me anything you can think of. The first thing you remember, perhaps."

"…My mother."

She wrinkled her nose. "What is a mother?"

"You don't know what a mother is?"

Ixa shook her head. "Is it something important?"

"It's a woman who has a baby." He thought for another moment. "It's what Maria's going to be in a few months."

She seemed to understand this, for her face grew brighter. "And you have a mother?"

"All humans do."

"What is she like? Does she live here?"

"No, not for a long time. She's in a big city far away from here now. That's where she came from. And her family…"

"Yes?"

He couldn't believe he was telling her this. "Her family went there a long time ago from a place even further away. A place called Germany."

"What is that place like?"

"It's very different from here. And when I was a kid, the adults…they thought I was different because Mom was different. So they didn't like me. And they told their kids that they shouldn't like me, either."

"What about Manolo and Maria?"

Joaquin smiled. "Well, you know how well they listen. They didn't care who saw them hanging out with me. They just wanted to know if I was fun or not. That's how it all got started with us, really."

"And what happened then?"

"I was six when Dad left to go fight in the revolution. When I was seven, they told me he'd been killed. Mom wanted to go back to the city after that, but she didn't think it'd be good for me. So she left our butler to take care of the house, and the house came with me. And that was how it was until…"

"Until Xibalba gave you the medal."

He nodded, staring at the fire. "I just wanted to be a hero. I just wanted people to _like_ me."

"They do," Ixa said, patting his arm. "And you are a hero as well. A great one." She smiled mischievously. "And you must have been a very pretty baby."

"I was a tough baby!"

She laughed. It was a light, airy noise, and it put him more at ease than he'd been the whole night. It ended in a yawn as Ixa slumped back into the crook of his arm.

He chuckled. "You should get some sleep."

"Will you be here when I wake?"

"Sure."

"…And you really aren't frightened of me?"

"Of course not. I swear."

"Thank you…"

A few minutes later, her breathing was slow and steady. Joaquin stared at the fire and smiled as he let his eyes drift shut.

* * *

Joaquin and Ixa were still sleeping on the sofa when Manolo and Maria came downstairs the next morning. The two Sanchezes blinked in surprise, their eyes darting between the two visitors and each other.

"Should we wake them up?" said Manolo.

Maria watched them for another moment. Ixa was shifting in her sleep, muttering something frantic under her breath. Joaquin pulled her closer to him, wrapping a second arm around her, and her distress slowly faded until it was no more.

"They'll wake up when they're ready."


	11. Dance

Ixa had never heard of the phrase "Cinco de Mayo" until a few days beforehand, when she saw people putting up decorations in the town square. Apparently it had something to do with a battle long ago, and the military presence in San Angel ensured that it was always a fine celebration indeed.

She cared little for the talk of battles - at least when Joaquin was not telling it - but she could certainly agree with the celebration part.

Everyone in town was crowded into the square that day. Streamers and little homemade ornaments covered the roofs and street lamps, and a few had even found their way onto the statue of Captain Mondragon. The smells of food drifted in from open doors, mingling with the chatter and laughter that flitted through the air. The thrill of the crowd enhanced Ixa's own: most of the townsfolk were even beingkind to her for once.

In the center of it all were Manolo and the Rodriguez brothers, playing a joyful tune with jumping, twirling people jumped and twirled with it, dancing around as others formed a circle around them and clapped to the beat. It was a wonderful sight, Ixa thought. Not like that dull evening they had spent at General Posada's house months smiled as she tapped her foot in time with the music.

Maria, who stood, next to her, noticed it and gave her shoulder a slight nudge. "Go on, then."

"Really?"

"Why not?"

"I do not know any dances."

"You don't need to."

Ixa's face lit up. Taking a breath, she rushed forward and leapt into the circle.

The music seemed to pickher up and carry her along, telling her how to move. She hopped and spun on the notes, weaving her intricate footsteps together. The bright colors and faces blurred together as she twirled, and she found herself giggling with pleasure at the wholeaffair. _They never told me dancing could be **fun!**_

When she stopped to catch her breath, she caught sight of a familiar figure trying to inch his way through the crowd to the other side of the square. "Joaquin!"

He paused and turned, seeing her there for the first time. "Ixa?"

"Come dance with me!" she shouted, holding out her hands.

He blushed a deep red and tried to back away. "I…I don't really dance."

"Neither do I!" He had always seemed rather eager to approach her since that night when he found her on the docks. Why would he hesitate now?

Maria smirked and nodded at Chuy, who crept up behind Joaquin. With a shove of his snout, he forced the man out of the crowd and towards Ixa, who grabbed his hands and pulled him into the circle.

His face flushed even more. "I-I don't think this is the best idea…!"

Manolo laughed. "Just go with it, _hermano!"_

_Go with it._ Joaquin looked up from his stumbling feet to Ixa's face. Her eyes were bright, and her wide smile seemed to beckon him to follow her. So he did, his footsteps copying hers. She nodded and led him on, and he grinned back at her. Soon they were moving as one, filling in the gaps in one another's steps with their own as they spun about. There was no direction, no pattern, simply the music filling their ears. They danced faster as the world around them blurred and vanished.

An impulse swept through Joaquin, taking control of his arms. Grabbing Ixa around the waist, he lifted her off her feet and spun her around. She gasped and laughed, instinctively putting her hands on his shoulders. He set her back down on the ground just as the band played the last note of their tune.

Ixa grinned up at him, breathing heavily. He smiled back down as he reached up and tucked the rose she was wearing back into her hair.

Then the world faded back into focus. Joaquin blinked rapidly as he looked around, seeing the staring faces and hearing the poking whispers. "I-I need to go." Pulling away from Ixa, he turned and fled back into the sea of faces. She stayed standing where he left her, confused and forlorn as she stared after him.

Maria watched them both as she approached her husband. "I've seen the look he had on his face before."

Manolo raised his eyebrows. "When he looked at you?"

She shook her head. "When you look at me."


	12. Sirens

The air that night was thick, stifling and warmer than usual. The people of San Angel opened their windows before they went to sleep: perhaps a breeze would arrive to dislodge the weather. None came, at least not while they were awake.

Joaquin was fast asleep, a thin line of drool at the edge of his mouth as he hugged his covers like a stuffed animal. Next door, Manolo and Maria were slumbering peacefully in one another's arms. Across the hall from their room, Ixa tossed and turned. Her eyes rattled back and forth beneath their lids, and she was whispering feverish exclamations under her breath. "No...stay away from him..."

Outside, the surface of the lake was sparkling and glassy. It was as calm as it had ever been, barely rippling.

And then it lurched.

An icy wind swept over the town as the water spirits crept towards the shore. They gathered at the edge of the walkway, rising up from the water as the moonlight made their bodies glisten. They bared their sharp teeth and hissed as they looked upon the buildings, felt the presence of the beings within.

The eldest raised a clawed hand for silence. "We shall have our blood and meal before long, sisters. Be patient." Her eyes scanned the streets, looking for any women that might still be up and finding none. "We may begin."

Lining up several feet away from the shore, the spirits opened their mouths and began to sing.

It was a song they had been born knowing, perhaps one of the oldest there was. It had no words, only their soft and silvery voices ringing out into the night. The pitch went up and down as they swayed with the rhythm, and the wind carried the sound up through the windows.

Joaquin's eye snapped open, and yet it did not. It was unseeing, watery and glazed over with pale blue veins that seemed to crack across his cornea. He sat up mechanically, his back straight and his face blank. Getting out of bed, he walked slowly out of his room, downstairs and into the street. He did not feel the chill on his skin or the cobblestones beneath his bare feet. He was aware of nothing except the beautiful song that filled his ears and beckoned him towards the water.

Next the voices floated around Manolo's ears. He frowned and struggled in his sleep, as though trying to resist the spell. Then he stiffened, and his eyes opened as the veins spread across them. He sat up just as Joaquin had, shrugging off his sleeping wife as he got out of bed and walked downstairs in pursuit of the song.

Maria rolled over, reaching for the other side of the bed. When she didn't feel the familiar form and warmth of her husband, she instantly awoke. "Manolo?" she called out, sitting up. _He never leaves without telling me. And his robe's still here._

Her head whipped around as she heard voices coming from outside. A faint, inhuman vocalizing that sounded distinctly off as it rose and fell. It was nearly buried under the sounds of shouting women. "What's gotten into you? Where are you going? Come back here!"

She screamed as her door suddenly slammed open. Ixa stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with fear and her hair disheveled. "Where's Manolo?" she demanded.

"I-I don't know..."

"We must find him!" The other woman practically dragged her out of bed, barely giving her time to put on her robe and slippers. They ran downstairs together, stopping at the landing above the parlor. The front door hung wide open, and the strange vocalizing was only growing louder.

Ixa's face grew paler. "Outside, quickly. There might be time yet."

"Time for what?"

"To save him."

The streets of San Angel were slowly but surely filling up with more men, all of them walking slowly towards the water as the blue veins covered their eyes. Behind them trailed their wives, sisters and daughters, pulling at their arms in vain and begging them to stop.

"We need to do something!" Maria said as she and Ixa pushed their way through the crowd.

"We must find Manolo and Joaquin," Ixa replied. "They are the only ones we can help."

Maria yelped as a small, hunched figure collided with her and brushed her aside. "Papa? Papa, snap out of it!"

Ixa shook her head and pulled her along, closer to the edge of the water. "He can only be freed if we put a stop to this."

"What's 'this'?"

"My sisters' doing."

Maria gaped, then raced ahead of Ixa. _"Manolo! Joaquin!"_

The men were gathering at the edges of the lake, staring in wonder at the water spirits as they kept up their song. The eldest scanned the crowd in search of the two her father had told them to seek out. When she saw them, a smirk formed on her thin lips. She broke away from her sisters, moving towards one of the docks as she sang only to them. They followed her voice, still entranced.

"There!" Ixa shouted, pointing down the street. Manolo and Joaquin were stepping onto the dock, seemingly not caring that they were walking towards the edge without stopping. At the end was the eldest spirit, beckoning to them as she sang.

The two women hurried after them. "Go to your husband," Ixa told Maria. "Call his name. _Now."_

Running after her husband, Maria threw her arms around him from behind. _"Manolo!"_

He nearly fell on top of her as he suddenly went limp and dropped to his knees. The veins vanished from his eyes as he gasped, blinking rapidly. "Maria?" When his vision readjusted and he saw her, he pulled her close and kissed her as hard as he could.

Ixa pulled Maria away from him. "Now call to him," she said, pointing towards the still-walking form of Joaquin.

"Joaquin!" Maria shouted. "Joaquin, come back!"

He didn't stop, or even turn his head. The water spirit sharpened her claws as she reached out to grab him.

"It's not working. What do I...Ixa?"

Ixa was running down the dock, forgetting everything else as she closed in on the man. _"Joaquin!"_

He stopped, as though someone had flicked a switch on his back. He turned and looked at her, the blue draining from his eye. "Ixa..."

Their eyes met for a moment. Then he screamed as the spirit dug her claws into his legs and pulled him off the dock.

"No!" Kicking off her slippers, Ixa dove into the water after them.

Joaquin was slipping down into the dark, fighting a futile against unconsciousness and the spirit's invisible arms. "He is ours, middle sister," she said, her voice reverberating in Ixa's ears. "All that you shall ever have shall be ours in the end."

Ixa resisted the urge to scream as her sister grabbed her arms and pulled them tight as though to break them off. Instead she pulled against the pressure until it lessened for a brief moment. She took the chance and pulled even harder, breaking free and jabbing at the water in front of her. Her sister shrieked in pain, and she felt a rush of satisfaction at the sound.

Kicking her legs, she swam after Joaquin. He wasn't moving now, disappearing almost completely beneath the murk. Ixa grabbed him by the collar of his thin shirt and tried to swim back up with him, only for his weight to start pulling her down with him. _Help!_ she wanted to scream.

There was another splash above her, and another dark form swimming downwards. It was Manolo, and he nodded upwards as he grabbed his friend. Ixa nodded back, and up they swam together. The water grew brighter as they approached the surface, and they burst back into the air gasping for breath.

Maria was waiting at the edge of the dock to pull Joaquin back up, as well as both of them. "Is he okay?" she asked once they were all on land.

Manolo placed an ear to his chest. "He's still with us for now."

They pressed down on him again and again, trying to force the water out. He coughed and sputtered, spitting up several mouthfuls. His eyelids fluttered and his head raised up, then fell back down again.

"What's wrong with him?" Ixa asked, her voice quivering.

"I'm not sure."

When the eldest spirit had cried out, the others had stopped their song and rushed to help her. The spell had been lifted, and the men of San Angel were left standing dazed at the edges of the water. They all trailed back home one by one, some willingly and some dragged by the women.

Maria wrapped her robe tighter around herself and looked down at her unconscious friend. "I think they've got the right idea."

* * *

"I think he'll be okay," Manolo said. "He'll just be out for a few hours."

They had carried Joaquin back to his house and tucked him into bed. Manolo had decided to stay so he had someone around when he woke up, and Maria refused to let him out of her sight. Now it was approaching sunrise, and the three of them were still sitting downstairs trying to make sense of it all.

"What was it like?" Maria asked, curled up in her husband's lap.

"It was...well, part of me _knew_ what it was for a few seconds. Then I thought it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard. I couldn't get away from it. Not until I heard you." He pulled her close and stroked her hair. _"Lo siento."_

"It was a spell," Ixa said as she sat in the chair across from them. "You could not have resisted it. Men cannot."

"What was it, exactly?" Maria asked.

"My sisters often used it to lure passing sailors when they desired the taste of human flesh."

The two Sanchezes both shuddered. "So why did it stop working on Manolo when he heard me?"

"One way to break the enchantment is for the song to be ended. The other is for a man to hear his name called by the woman he loves."

She thought nothing of the words as she said them, but then her eyes slowly widened as their meaning sank in. Manolo and Maria stared at her, their eyes just as wide. Ixa looked back at them, then up the stairs, then shot up and ran from the room.


	13. Confession

The sky was beginning to turn lighter when Joaquin woke up. His eye opened slowly, and he lay where he was for what seemed like an eternity before he looked around. "Ixa…?"

"About time you woke up." Manolo was sitting in a chair across from his bed, trying to smile despite the bags under his eyes. "You should probably stay here for a while, amigo. We thought we were going to lose you for a few minutes - "

"Where's Ixa?" he asked, sitting up.

"She's downstairs, but - "

"I need to talk to her."

"…I don't know if you should just now."

"It's important."

"There'll be time later - "

"Manny," he said, "if I don't do this now, I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to."

Manolo was silent for a moment, and then he nodded. "I'll see if I can find her."

Joaquin fell back onto his pillow as his friend left. His mind was racing, hopping from one possible choice of words to another and rejecting them all. _Can't I just punch bandits or something? I know how to do that._

Minutes later, the door slowly creaked open. She was still in her nightgown, her hair still damp and tangled. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she carefully avoided his gaze as she walked towards the bed. She had never looked so beautiful.

"This is my doing," she said quietly.

"No, it isn't."

"They came here tonight because of me, and they shall come back. You won't be safe as long as I am here. No one will be."

"I can deal with them," he said, sitting up. "I'll deal with them every day if I have to."

She sank onto the bed, covering her face with her hands. "You mustn't."

"I have to."

"You don't know what you are saying - "

"I don't," he admitted with a sigh. "I'm not like Manolo. I can't sing or play or talk to a girl without sounding like an idiot. But I know what I'm feeling."

She turned away from him as tears began to brim in her eyes.

"You're not like anyone I've ever met," Joaquin continued. "And it just feels _right_ whenever I'm around you. But I never knew what to think of it - heck, I'm not even sure I knew what it was until a few hours ago. When I heard you out on the dock, it was like…it was so _weird._ It was like when you get woken up all of a sudden, or when you finally get something you've been trying to figure out. And…I know what I figured out."

"Joaquin…"

"Ixa…" He paused, took a breath and let the words fall out. "…I think I love you."

She began to well and truly cry at that. She shook her head as she slowly turned to look at him, the tears dripping down her face.

And then she smiled.

"I am so selfish," she said through her choking sobs. "So _terribly_ selfish."

"What for?"

"My family shall hunt you now," she said. "They shall hunt you until the day you die. That is why I never wanted you to say it." She laughed. "And yet I have always wanted to hear it!"

He laughed with her as he gently wrapped his arms around her. She melted into the hug, resting her head on his chest. "So you're not mad?" he said.

"No." She looked up at him, then leaned forward.

It was a messy kiss, noses and teeth bumping against each other as they tried to find the right angles. Ixa giggled into his mouth at how strange it all felt, and also how lovely. When they broke apart to catch their breaths, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "I love you too."

"I kind of picked up on that."

Her sisters hissed at the back of her mind, and then slipped away. _For now, middle sister. For now._


	14. Soul

The people of San Angel were quick to take notice at the change in their hero's behavior, and even quicker to begin gossiping about it. Had he really been seen with the strange city girl on his arm? All the women he had to choose from, and he picked _her?_ It had to simply be a quick fling after Maria and nothing more. Surely he didn't intend to marry her. She would be a most unsuitable wife for anyone, let alone a man as renowned as him.

If Ixa heard any of the whispers, she seemed not to care. Something was forever occupying her mind: Joaquin came to visit the Sanchez house each day, and she often walked with him. There was Maria and her growing baby to help care for, especially after that strange and terrible adventure they'd all had in the branch world. There was no time for the whispers from outside. Besides, the whispers from within her head were causing enough trouble already.

_You have made a grave mistake, middle sister._

"So you love to say," she muttered, trying to concentrate on her sewing.

_You think you are like him. You think you can be happy with him, but you are a fool. You share a soul with us, middle sister. You shall never escape us, not as long as you live. Not even when you are dead._

"Shut _up!"_

Their taunts were getting worse, their voices becoming louder and almost constant. Ixa often found herself fleeing to the Sanchezes' library in those times, for the books gave her something else to concentrate on. That day, when they were especially persistent, was the day she happened upon the book of fairy tales. And in that book was _the_ tale.

It might have been written for her, she fancied. The creature in the story was very much like her: a being of the water, although she was not made of it, with many sisters and a curiosity for the land of humans. She too had saved a man from death and come to love him. Why, she had even become a human and gone to live in his realm!

But then the tale grew dark. The poor girl was miserable on land: she could not speak, for a witch had cut off her tongue, and each step she took brought terrible pain. Her true love never saw her as more than a simple oddity and married another woman in front of her. She had been told that she would die if he did so, and yet she could not bring herself to save her life by taking his own. Instead she had flung herself into the ocean and turned to seafoam, as Tlaloc had threatened his daughters with so many times.

Ixa slammed the book shut after that, too frightened to read any longer. Then she slowly cracked the tome open once more, remembering a passage she had skimmed over earlier.

Sea folk did not have souls like humans, the story said. Humans had what was called an immortal soul, which lasted long after they were dead and went to realms a water spirit would never see. _Nor I either, if my sisters speak the truth._ Creatures like herself and the girl in the story had no lasting soul to speak of: 'when we cease to exist here we only become the foam on the surface of the water, and we have not even a grave down here of those we love.'

_Father made me from the water,_ she thought. _If I live with no soul, will I return to it when I die? Will I belong to him once again?_

She looked at the book, and then at herself. And then she had an idea.

* * *

"You want _what?"_ her friends asked in unison.

"A soul like yours," she answered. It hadn't seemed that hard to understand.

Manolo cocked his head as he looked at her. "And...what makes you think that you don't have one?"

"It says so in here!" She held up the book. "A sea person has no immortal soul! A-And we turn to foam on the water when we die! I wish to go where you go when I am dead, not back there. And..." She lowered her voice. "My sisters say I share a soul with them. If I had one like yours, perhaps they could no longer hurt me as they do." She winced as they suddenly hissed in her ears.

The three of them looked from her to the book and then back again. Manolo motioned for Maria and Joaquin to come closer to him, and they all huddled into a circle. Their whispers were low, too low for Ixa to hear no matter how hard she strained. Finally they nodded and turned back to face her, smiling.

"If that's how you feel about it," Joaquin said, "then we might have something that can help."

* * *

The next day, Manolo went up to the church to speak to Father Domingo about something. On the Sunday morning after that, Maria gave Ixa a simple white dress to wear and told her what to expect and what this ceremony they had prepared was to mean.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"No."

"You said there would be water."

"Holy water. I don't think your sisters would be able to use it."

"And when it is done, I shall have a soul like yours?"

"That's the idea."

Ixa had been to the church many times. She had heard the thing the people called Mass, enjoyed listening to the stories of the mysterious nameless god they followed. She had never thought to question it or be nervous about it, not until today. _What if it doesn't work on someone like me? But they said it would if I wanted it to, and I want it to. It has to._

She had been so deep in thought that she hadn't felt Maria prodding her arm. "Ixa, it's time."

A tall stone basin stood near the altar, filled with water. "Are you ready, dear?" the priest asked, beckoning.

Ixa froze and went wide-eyed, for a cacophony of screams suddenly filled her head. _Stay away from that, fool! You know not what it will do!_

"Y-Yes," she said, her legs shaking as she stood. "Yes, I'm ready." She walked up to the basin, and her sisters' screams pounded in her ears with each step she took. Taking a breath, she bowed her head as her friends had told her to do and waited.

"I baptize you in the name of the Father..."

She felt a few droplets of water being sprinkled on her head. _You think this will protect you?_ the spirits sneered. _You think you can hide from us?_

"...and of the Son..."

More water. _You shall regret this insolence, middle sister. Wait and see._

"...and of the Holy Spirit."

Then there was only silence. Not the faint echoes of their departure, no promise to return, but real _silence._ The peace of her own thoughts.

"It worked," she said, grinning in disbelief. "It worked!" The moment of ecstasy overtook her, and before she could stop herself, she had picked up Father Domingo and twirled him around. "Sorry!" she cried, hastily dropping him. "Sorry."

"It's quite all right..."

She smiled at her friends as she rejoined them, and they smiled back just as brightly. They understood.

* * *

Maria prepared a fine dinner that evening and insisted that Joaquin come over. The four of them feasted and chatted, the celebration lasting far longer into the night than their gatherings usually did.

"You feeling better now?" Joaquin asked Ixa as they listened to Manolo play a tune.

"Yes," she answered, snuggling closer to her.

"I hoped you would." He kissed her on the lips. It lasted only a second or two, but it was gentle and sweet.

Ixa rested her head against him and thought of the girl in the story, how she had felt her heart break as she carried the bride's train at her beloved's wedding day and dissolved to nothing with the next sunrise. _That shall not be me,_ she thought, and she had never been more sure of anything.


	15. Eyepatch

The days grew ever warmer as the summer dragged on. San Angel did what it could to fight the weather: fans, open windows, blocks of ice like the ones Chuy loved to sleep on. It was a matter of making do until nightfall, when the heat wafted wafted back up from the ground and offered a few hours of respite.

Joaquin and Ixa had their own way of taking advantage of the evening. Whenever she went to visit him at his house, it inevitably ended in their going up to the attic and climbing onto the roof. They perched side by side on the shingles, talking of whatever they wished as they watched the moon rise above the buildings and the lake.

It never failed to give Ixa a thrill. The fear that came from being so high up with so little to keep her from falling, balanced by the comfort of Joaquin's company and the pride that came from knowing the whole town could see them together. It made her a little more daring, she fancied. Perhaps that was what led her to finally ask the long-brewing question.

"Will you do something for me?" she asked him one night as they stared at the horizon.

"Whatever you want," he answered.

"I want you to let me look underneath your eyepatch."

He abruptly blanched and recoiled, nearly sliding off the roof. "W-What?"

"Just for a moment."

"I…I don't know."

"I won't touch it."

"It's not that."

Manolo and Maria had been the only ones to see what his eye (or lack thereof) looked like, when they had helped him dress the wound. He himself had hardly ever examined it: he wore the eyepatch as often as he could, even when asleep. If he left it on, he could pretend it was simply a strange thing he chose to wear. To take it off was to face the truth, to admit that he was no longer whole. Besides, people only cared about the eyepatch. No one wanted to see the ugliness it hid.

_She's different, though,_ he thought. _But how different?_

He find her hand on his arm, stroking it lightly. "Please?" she whispered.

Sighing, he turned back to her, his remaining eye closed to avoid seeing the horror on her face. "…Alright."

With shaking hands, he reached up and pulled off the eyepatch.

Ixa softly gasped and covered her mouth with one hand. She had imagined an empty eye socket staring out at her, not something like this. Joaquin's left eye seemed to be fused shut, and with nothing behind it, the upper lid was sagging inwards. A deep scar ran down the length of it from his brow to the top of his cheek, still carefully stitched up so the gash could heal. She traced part of it with a finger, her skin barely touching his. He still flinched.

"Did that hurt?" she asked, drawing her hand away.

"N-No, it's just…kind of sensitive sometimes."

"Should it be?"

"I-I don't know."

She looked up at him sadly. "I wish I could heal it. Then you would not have to be sad any longer."

Joaquin took a breath and tried to straighten himself out. "It's not that bad, really. It only hurts when I think about it - "

Ixa abruptly wrapped her arms around his waist. "Then I shall make sure you do not have to think about it."

He stared down at her for a moment, then hugged her back tightly and gratefully. "Thanks…"

"And you must tell me when it hurts, so I can help. Do you understand?"

"Okay, now you're gonna make me cry…"

"It's just you and me out here."

"Good point."

She put the eyepatch back on and gave it an affectionate pat. They stayed on the roof until long after the night had come, his arm wrapped around her as she leaned against him. The sky was filled with stars, but all he wanted to admire was her.


	16. Question

Casa de Mondragon was what one might call a haunted house that lacked a haunting. The outside was solemn grey stone, and the inside was marble and mahogany and gold. When Manolo and Maria had last seen the place, all the furniture was covered in mourning crepe and the halls had been packed with sobbing townsfolk despairing the disappearance of their beloved captain. Now an eerie emptiness filled it, like a smothering pillow. The old mansion had been locked up and left to gather dust when Joaquin had moved in with General Posada, and there were still traces remaining to prove it.

 _He wasn't kidding when he said this was the most boring place in town,_ Manolo thought. "Joaquin?" he called out as he and Maria stepped into the foyer. "You wanted to talk to us about something?"

"It better be important," Maria muttered to herself. "He knows what happens when you leave Chuy and Ixa in the same room."

"Joaquin?" Manolo said again, taking a few steps forward. _"Dónde estás, hermano?"_

A voice floated down from the second floor, along the curving staircase in front of the two visitors. "…haven't known each other all that long…"

Ascending the steps, they followed the voice down the hall until they found themselves in front of a door still labeled **JOAQUIN'S ROOM.** It stood slightly ajar, and they pushed it open the rest of the way.

The walls were a stark white and covered with medal cases and old photographs in gilded frames, mostly blurry pictures of how Captain Mondragon had looked in life. Dark blue sheets sat wrinkled and tangled on a bed in the corner. Joaquin was sitting at a mahogany desk, looking at something in his hand pensively. He got up and paced back and forth for a few seconds, then stopped in front of a full-length mirror and clumsily dropped to one knee. He held the object in his hand out towards his reflection, and his friends could see that it was a small ring adorned with a single pearl.

"So," he said. "Um…what do you say?" He paused, as though waiting for an imaginary response. "What would it mean? Oh, you know…you kind of know. It means we'd live together. And…and we'd get to see each other every day! Even though we do that already. And…" He slumped to the ground, slapping a hand over his face and shaking his head. _"Oh,_ I'm never gonna do this - "

"Joaquin?" Maria asked, her tone bordering on incredulity.

He yelped and scrambled to his feet, only to relax when he saw them. "Oh, okay. Just you."

Maria walked towards him, staring at the ring. "Is this about what I think it's about?"

He bit his lip as he looked down at the floor, blushing. "Um…yeah."

She examined his face, one eyebrow raised. "What for?" she finally asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I know you need someone to clean this place up - "

 _"What?_ It's not like that at all!"

"Then why do you want to marry her?"

"Because I love her," he answered without needing to think. "More than I fear her family. I know that. And I want to spend every day I have left with her. No matter what I have to put up with to do that. Because she's worth it."

Maria's expression softened, and she nodded approvingly. "That's all I've ever wanted for you, you know. To see you be just as happy as I am."

Joaquin's face lit up. "Can you guys help me with it, then?"

"Of course!" Manolo chirped, clapping him on the back. "Whatever you need."

"I just don't want to screw it up or scare her or anything."

"I don't think she's the one you need to focus on not scaring."

* * *

"I got an idea," Joaquin said to Ixa as they were walking a few days later.

"And what is that?"

"How about you come over to my place for dinner tonight? Just the two of us."

She laughed, a flowing sound that made him giddy. "You don't know how to cook."

"You've never seen me."

There was a very good reason for that, considering what the kitchen usually looked like when he was done with it. When he had dropped Ixa back at the Sanchez house and returned to his own, however, he found Maria waiting for him with a variety of ingredients already laid out. It was slow going, largely because Joaquin was adamant about helping as much as he could. Maria simply shooed him away and told him to worry about what he had to do. So he had reluctantly slipped away to dress and rehearse, and rehearse again.

The evening approached. Joaquin was coming back down the stairs when he heard a knock at the front door. "She's early," he said, his face growing pale.

"Good thing I was too, then," Maria said as she emerged from the kitchen wiping her hands. "It's all ready for you. Good luck."

Joaquin swept her up into a tight hug. "Thank you so much for this."

"My pleasure." She reached up and gave him a light peck on the cheek before slipping out the back door.

"Is everything alright?" Ixa asked when Joaquin opened the door smiling nervously.

"Everything's _great._ So far. Come in, come in!" Ushering her through the door, he took her by the hand and led her to the dining room.

Maria had certainly made good on her promise to take care of the food: the table was filled with all kinds of it. The two sat across from each other, Joaquin a little less talkative than usual at first. Ixa seemed to see nothing odd in it, however, and her warmth rubbed off on him bit by bit. As the minutes passed, his lips grew as loose as they had ever been. The only thing keeping him uneasy was the tiny box in his pocket that his hand went to whenever Ixa wasn't looking.

"Your house is very beautiful," she remarked as they were finishing the meal. "And very lonely."

He smiled apologetically. "I've noticed."

"You should bring people here more often! Then perhaps it would not be so lonely!"

"I've been thinking about some ways to do that, actually…"

"Really? Like what?"

"Well…" He felt the ring again. "…It doesn't really matter right now." _Idiot._

She stood. "Do you need some help with the dishes?"

"No, I'll be fine. There's something else I'd like to show you." He cleared his throat and took a breath. "Something I think you'll like."

Ixa smiled and nodded. "I'm sure I will."

She followed him up the stairs and down the hall. It wound around towards the back of the house, and soon they were standing before a set of tall double doors.

"It's still a little dusty," Joaquin said as he took a small key out of his pocket. "I've only been inside a few times since Mom left. It never felt right coming in here alone." Unlocking the doors, he pushed them open.

Ixa's face lit up with wonder as she entered the room. "Oh…"

It was large, with soft green walls and white marble floors covered in colorful rugs. Plush red armchairs and small round tables sat around a stone fireplace, and above that was a large painting. Captain Mondragon's face was uncharacteristically pleasant as he wrapped one arm around a smiling young woman with pale skin and brown hair, who was cradling a tiny, squirming baby in her arms.

"This was our private sitting room," Joaquin said, looking up reverently at the painting. "We hung out here all the time. Just us being a family, you know?"

She nodded. "I think it's wonderful."

 _Now or never, buddy._ He gulped and folded his shaking hands behind his back. "Ixa?"

"Yes?"

"There's…um…there's a reason I wanted to show you this."

"You said you thought I would like it."

"It's not just that." He quietly pulled the box out of his pocket and fidgeted with it. "This room's always been for my family. And…and I want you to be part of my family."

She furrowed her brows as though confused. "What are you talking about?"

He knelt before her, nearly falling over, and opened the box. "Ixa, will…willyoumarryme?"

At first, she didn't seem to understand. But then her eyes slowly grew wide, and she looked at the floor as she began to nervously wring her hands. He looked away as well, shutting the box and getting back to his feet.

"…Yes."

He froze, not quite believing his ears. "What…?"

Her eyes were sparkling, and her smile was full of trepidation and joy in equal measure. "I mean, I will. Or however you are supposed to say it. How do you say it, exactly?"

He laughed, because he thought he might cry otherwise. "You can say it however you want."

"Then I shall marry you!" she proudly declared as she took him by the hand. "I have made up my mind, so you mustn't take it back."

"Wasn't planning to."

The box tumbled out of his hands as he swept her up in his arms, twirled her around and kissed her until he couldn't breathe.

Outside, the lake boiled and frothed with rage.


	17. Last Chance

Manolo and Maria still held the record for shortest amount of time between the engagement and the wedding, but this was something to raise eyebrows at as well. After announcing their plan to wed, Joaquin and Ixa had spent only a fortnight on the preparations. It was really little more than a matter of planning the reception, finding a dress and sending a letter to Mexico City to request the presence of Joaquin's mother (who had declared the bride to be a fine woman upon meeting her).

Now the dress was hanging from the door of Ixa's wardrobe, and she couldn't keep her eyes off it. the short sleeves sloped off her shoulders, and the fluffy skirt fanned out from her waist to form a wide circle like an overturned bowl. Her veil hung with it, cascading down in lacy ripples. Ixa periodically stopped to smooth out imaginary wrinkles in the fabric as she paced back and forth across her room - at least, it would be for a few more hours.

 _A few more hours,_ she thought with a rush of excitement. And then all would be well. They would stand in the church together and promise to love one another always, and then there would be nothing keeping them from their happiness. She would fall asleep and wake up with him, and live out the rest of her days with him. Perhaps there would even be a child someday, like the one inside Maria. Now _that_ was a thought! She grinned and giggled at it.

Her window stood open, the soft breeze gently blowing the curtains. She rested her elbows on the sill and her chin in her hands, staring out over the rows of buildings and the lake that rippled and churned in the moonlight.

Wait. Churning?

* * *

 _It's cold,_ Ixa thought, tying the robe tighter around her waist as she walked towards the nearest dock. Colder than it should be, and the sinking feeling in her stomach told her why.

The boards creeped and squeaked under her feet as she crept down the dock, stopping a few feet away from the edge. "Well?" she snapped. "What do you want now?"

They rose from the water one by one: first the eldest, and then the rest of her sisters. "We do not come of our own accord tonight," said the former.

"Have you ever not?"

"Perhaps."

"Then you can leave of your own accord. Go back to that hell."

The spirit stretched up, resting her arms on the edge of the dock. "We bring a message from Father. He regrets that he cannot attend the ceremony in the morning."

"Even if he could, he would find no welcome there."

"Will you at least accept his gift, sister?"

"I want no gift of his," she spat.

"Not even your freedom?"

"I already have that." She turned to leave and felt an ice-cold hand grab her by the ankle, stopping her in her tracks.

"He said you would be like this," her eldest sister said, not trying to mask the disdain in her voice. "He knows the ways of humans, sister, and you do not. You are young and innocent, but you will soon learn if you marry that man. You cannot please him, for they can never be pleased. He is human in body and soul. His eyes and his heart will stray. It has happened before, and it shall happen once again. Take the chance that Father offers you, and stop your sorrow before it can grow."

"…And how might I do that?"

"By cutting out the seed before it can take root." The eldest spirit beckoned to one of her sisters, who joined her at the dock's edge and held an object out to Ixa. It was a dagger, the wooden handle rotting and the iron blade stained with ancient blood.

"With this shall you win your liberty," the eldest spirit continued as Ixa hesitantly took the weapon and examined it. "Go to this man of yours tonight, while he is asleep. Drive this blade into his heart until he is dead, then cut it out. Take it here and throw it into the water, and Father shall lift this curse he has placed on you."

"And what then?"

"You are free to do whatever you wish," her sister answered, smiling. "You may return to our realm, or you may roam the worlds. We shall neither pursue you nor speak to you, as we have promised Father. The only master you have shall be yourself. You need only kill that human. Do you agree?"

Ixa was no longer looking at her. She was turning the dagger around and around in her hands. "All that Father promises. Is it true?"

"Without fail."

She looked up, and a small yet knowing smile was on her face. "A human in body and soul, you say." Then the smile faded, and a cold glare replaced it. "So am I."

She flung the dagger back into the water, and the spirits shrieked in unison as it cut right through the eldest sister's body.

"You call this a curse?" Ixa continued. "I call it the only blessing Father ever gave me. And I _will not_ throw it away, nor will I betray my husband!"

Her eldest sister withdrew, holding her midsection and hissing. "What disobedience is this?"

"This is me."

"If you are human," the spirit snarled, "you are the enemy. You shall come to rue this night, _creature._ For yourself, and for those that you love and will love. We shall all watch you die, one way or another."

They vanished, sinking back into the water. Dark clouds swept in to cover the moon. Currents of lightning flashed and crackled across the sky, bringing with them crashing thunder, and buckets of rain began to pour down from the heavens. They mixed with the frightened tears that trickled down Ixa's face as she ran home.


	18. Forever

The storm did not relent with the arrival of morning. If anything, it only grew stronger.

"Nasty weather today, isn't it?" Maria said innocently as she looked out the window.

Ixa sat on the other side of the church's back room, staring at her reflection in the vanity. "Yes..."

Maria turned around to look at her. "Are you okay? You look kind of worried."

The other woman managed a smile. "I'm fine."

Although a few of the other girls were still inclined to sit in the corner and bemoan the loss of San Angel's most eligible bachelor, most of them were more than happy to help Ixa get ready. They all spoke at once, prattling on with advice and congratulations and how lovely it all was. Ixa closed her eyes and let their words wash over her, blurring together until they formed a single droning hum.

"Alright, give her a break," Maria said as she shooed them away to look at Ixa's makeup once it was done. "That looks fine. Now where's the dress?"

"Actually," Ixa said, "might I have a little time to myself? No more than ten minutes, I promise."

She got a few odd looks from the women, but Maria nodded and ushered them out the door. "We'll be out in front when you're ready."

Ixa smiled as they shut the door, then listened until their footsteps had faded away. When all was silent, she sprang up from her seat and cautiously opened the door. She looked left and right to make sure no one was coming, then ran off down the hall. She had heard the men take Joaquin this way, and hopefully they had not yet moved him again.

She stopped in front of another door not far from her own and placed an ear to the wood. He was on the other side, mumbling to himself. "You're gonna be fine. It's just two words. And they probably aren't gonna send a sea monster or anything..."

"Joaquin!" She flung herself against the door as she turned the knob, stumbling into the room.

Joaquin whirled around as she entered. He was dressed in white, and he had foregone his usual eyepatch for one emblazoned with a red heart. "What's wrong?" he asked, staring with concern at her glassy eyes and trembling lip.

"I must speak with you," she said, sinking into the chair he offered her. "I've done something terrible."

"Don't cry, it's nothing we can't fix."

She took a deep breath. "Last night...m-my sisters..."

He stiffened, and his expression turned grave. "What did they do?"

"They came to...to get me to leave. A-And I made them angry."

He sat next to her and gently put an arm around her. "There doesn't seem to be much that doesn't make them angry, you know."

"I think they're going to hurt you," she said, blinking back tears again. "They said as much."

"They can't hurt me," he answered. "They haven't got it figured out."

"What do you mean?"

"There's only one way for them to hurt me," he said, lowering his voice. "Hurting you."

She hugged him, squeezing tightly. "Promise me you shall keep yourself safe. If anything happens."

He nodded. "Alright. You too."

"I shall."

They both flinched at the sound of another thunderclap, much louder than the others. "He's trying to scare us, isn't he?" Joaquin said.

"Yes."

Joaquin stared at the raindrops sliding down the window pane, then straightened himself up and smirked. "Well, he's gonna have to try harder than that. After all," he continued, gesturing to his mustache, "I've got _this!"_

A laugh escaped Ixa's lips, and Joaquin smiled at the sound. "I mean it. I'm not scared, and you don't need to be, either."

"...I shall try."

He kissed her forehead, then her lips. "Go on, then. Time to show everyone how nice you are in that dress."

* * *

Before she knew it, Ixa was standing in the back of the church with a bunch of flowers in her hand and a veil over her face. The rain was still pounding on the roof, and her heart was thudding just as loudly.

A hand touched her arm. "Shall I walk you down the aisle?" Manolo asked.

"Of course."

"Whenever you're ready."

Ixa looked towards the altar. Through the patterns of lace, she could see Joaquin standing at the other end of the aisle. He was fidgeting with his suit and rocking back and forth on his feet, but when he saw her, he froze.

She smiled. "I'm ready."

The sound of the organ rose above that of the rain, drowning it out. Ixa began to walk down the aisle, her legs no longer shaking as they had been a few moments before. It was like crossing a bridge, turning her back on all which had haunted her and looking towards all that she wanted.

Then she was there, staring back at him as he lifted up her veil, and nothing else seemed to matter. She was vaguely aware of Father Domingo speaking to them and to the guests, then turning to look at her expectantly.

"I do," she said proudly, and Joaquin said the same a few moments later. The small gold ring felt warm on her finger as he slipped it on, and her hand shook as she slipped on his.

"Then by the power vested in me, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife."

It was done, and then he was kissing her as the whole room burst into applause.

General Posada yelped as the thunder crashed yet again. One of his soldiers stepped outside for a moment and came back drenched to the bone. "It's nearly a flood out there!"

Ixa looked up at Joaquin, who just smiled. "We'll deal with it," he said. "We have before."

"But the reception - "

"I'm not going to let a little water stop me from throwing _my wife_ the reception she deserves," he answered. "Nor will she have to get her dress wet." Sweeping Ixa up in his arms, he carried her towards the doors of the church. _"Vamos!"_

* * *

The rain lasted well into the night, but so did the party. Casa de Mondragon's parlor was full to bursting, and from it poured joyful music and smells from all kinds of food. Even the girls who had long hoped to be in the bride's place admitted. Of course, no one beamed brighter than the newlyweds. Joaquin was hardly still for a moment, and he and Ixa twirled each other around until they were almost too dizzy to stand.

"I've been waiting for this day," Manolo said when asked to make a speech. "I could tell how much you two cared about each other, even from the beginning. I just wanted you both to be happy, and I know you will be."

_We shall be,_ Ixa thought as she sat slumped in her husband's lap hours later, her arms draped around his neck and her head resting against his chest. _Father was wrong. I was meant for this. And I will not let anyone take it away._

She didn't even notice the rain stop.


	19. Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was asked to write this for a Tumblr meme, so I decided to put it here as well.

_Schunkeln,_ Joaquin called it. A slow rhythm, with a strong sway that carried one back and forth as though drifting on waves. A funny name for a wonderful thing.

Ixa sat snuggled in the crook of her husband's arm, resting her head against his shoulder as she listened to his voice ramble from one subject of old days to another. He delighted in telling of the culture he had absorbed from his mother's side of the family, perhaps more than he realized. This evening he spoke of his visits to the quarter of Mexico City where Gertrude's people lived. Of their many gatherings where they tired themselves out with wild dances, then sang and moved as one as the night drew to a close.

"Could you sing me one, perhaps?" she asked.

He blushed and mumbled something about carrying a tune as well as she liked fish. "Mom gave me some records, though."

The music and the voices were faint and grainy, but they could still be made out. Ixa hummed as she rocked in time with the tune.

Joaquin smiled as he watched her. "It sounds a little weird, I know."

"It sounds lovely." She stood, stretched her arms out and began to glide around the sitting room while twirling.

A hand grabbed one of hers. She turned to see Joaquin now standing. "Mind if I cut in?" he asked, giving her a stately bow.

She curtsied. "Not at all."

He pulled her to him, wrapping an arm around her waist, then took a step. She followed, putting her arms on his shoulders and resting her cheek on his chest. Their movements were drawn out and gentle, continuing even after the record ended.

Ixa giggled as she felt Joaquin run a hand through her hair. Then he felt him pull her closer as he leaned down. He was singing into her ear - the words were a mystery, but his voice was soft and rich. She blushed and bit her lip, bunching the fabric of his shirt in her fists.

His song ended, and so did their dance. Balancing on her toes, she stretched up and kissed him. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Not when it's for you."


End file.
